


Trees and Sunlight

by ThatDamnKennedyKid



Series: The Lessons of the Goddess of Shinobi [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, fem!Hashirama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-21 17:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12462456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDamnKennedyKid/pseuds/ThatDamnKennedyKid
Summary: Madara never considered that he would realize his love for Hashirama was this intense just because he found her napping. Absurd.





	Trees and Sunlight

The  _audacity_ of this woman, honestly. 

Madara pressed himself harder against the tree, hand over his heart to try and halt the aggressive beats. His pride hoped that none of his clan found him this way, that rumour of his odd behaviour didn't make him even more of an outcast figure tot he other shinobi. There was nothing to be done for it, however - if he shifted his head even just a little bit to the right, he would be able to see her there and his heart would complete its escape attempt from his chest. He was pretty sure it had stopped before he found himself slamming against the bark. 

Hashirama didn't seem to be phased by his presence. How she had survived so long was a mystery, honestly. But she continued on, the sun bronzing her beautiful skin even further. Her hair was fanned out around her head and a couple of her over-robes were spread out on the ground under her instead of being worn by her. She hummed to herself, shifting a little bit to adjust to the ridges in the earth, but remained with her eyes closed at the edge of the meadow. 

He swallowed thickly, trying to steel his courage to go out there and sit down next to her. The jelly he used to call legs informed him it would take a little more power than he currently possessed, in cardiac arrest as he was. 

The air shifted around him and the sound of footsteps from across the little field drew his attention. If it was an enemy nin, she would be blindsided. He had to look. He would need the adrenaline to kickstart his body if it was an attacker-

Tobirama emerged from the foliage, missing almost all of his customary armour or diplomatic robes. She opened one eye with a lazy, sun-satisfied smile and patted the little bit of open space next to her with a sluggish hand. Without a word, Tobirama did as she commanded, shedding his sandals next to hers and laying down on his side next to her. Her arm wrapped about the top of his shoulders, fingers sliding through his spiky hair and guiding his head to rest atop her breast and on her collarbone. A heavy, weary sigh escaped the albino before his body melted visibly into hers, he slung an arm across her waist and closed his eyes in contentment. 

"Otouto." She murmured, stroking down the side of his face with loving fingers. 

"Ane." He replied, pulling himself closer to her. "I love you."

It occurred to him, hidden in the shadow of the trees, that he had never heard Tobirama tell her that he loved her. Izuna had told him when he wanted him calm after a hard battle. He didn't recall Tobirama ever passing on the sentiment, even when Hashirama herself would cup his face and tell him. Tobirama's stoic nod just seemed so in character he never considered that perhaps that was simply a public facade. 

"I love you too, my baby boy." She whispered back. 

Tobirama snuggled closer, years worth of war, worry and age falling from him beat by beat of his sister's heart. It was a matter of minutes before they, together, were asleep in a small meadow a few hundred meters away from the training grounds. 

* * *

The little interaction followed him for weeks. He could not stop thinking about the pure familial devotion inherent in that one stolen snippet of time. 

It was after a long, arduous meeting with the Daimo and his people with Tobirama - Hashirama, who would normally deal with this, locked in battle miles away with her characteristic luck - that the subject came up. 

After showing the diplomats out, he followed Tobirama to the Hokage's office, sorting through the papers for Hashirama's signing when the younger man stretched, wincing as joints and vertebrae cracked back into place. 

"I wish Hashirama was here." He muttered to himself. He sat down on the edge of the desk, picking up one of the scrolls to scan it over. "I need a hug."

He snapped his gaze up. "Pardon?"

Tobirama's narrow gaze drifted over to him, as if daring him to challenge the statement. "Problem?"

"I didn't realize you two were that close."

Tobirama pulled off his hitai-ate, letting it drop and running his hand through his hair with far less care than Hashirama had done those weeks ago. "Why would we not be?"

"You just seem very standoffish with her." He shrugged, feeling as though he had started to offend the man. He didn't mind to do so, but only when Hashirama was around to put out those fires - Tobirama was the First Advisor and was more than willing to make his life difficult in return for mutiny. 

The albino sighed with the same weight he did in the meadow. "Mother died giving birth to Kawarama. I was young then, two, maybe three years old. I had two older brothers, above Hashirama, that I did not know. Touka and Itama. Taken by the war, she used to tell me. Father was little more than a slave driver, forcing us though training and whipping us for disobedience. Hashirama was the one who raised us, tender at the age of eight yet, Butsama, Kawarama and I. Butsama was between her and I. We were to late to save him and she held Kawarama as he died on the battlefield, no more than nine. She spent the remaining years protecting me from everything, from the war to our father until the fighting took that too. Hashirama may be my sister, but she is also the woman who raised me, my best friend and guiding light." He looked out the window, seeing something from long ago. "My ane."

He considered the Senju, what kind of world they grew up in that he had never considered. He was Hashirama's age, but Izuna was his only younger sibling, four years his junior. He knew his mother, was loved at home. His four older brothers had perished shortly before he joined the fray and when he had, he had made it his mission to save Izuna from their brothers' fates. He had never seen them fall. they had simply come back on biers, buried soon after and forgotten by all save their mother. She used to stand over the small markers of four sons and weep in silence. He imagined the little girl he met in the woods standing over the graves of siblings she had raised and feeling that same kind of hopeless failure, as though she was somehow responsible. His heart clenched, knowing that across enemy lines, a young girl faced the same anguish as a full grown woman with none of the choice the latter possessed. 

"She never told me." He whispered back. 

Tobirama pulled away from his reverie, turning to look at him once more. "Hashirama does not tell anyone. Father raised his one daughter to carry on should her mother fail. In her mind, there is nothing to say, only what there is to do."

"She never told me about Butsama or Kawarama. She only mentioned that she had dead brothers, the same as me, and one left alive who she sought to protect."

Tobirama nodded. "Hashirama is bold and brash and strong, but not foolish. A healer by her very nature, but unable to reach wounds sealed inside her heart, inflicted on her soul."

He swallowed thickly, looking back down, unseeingly, at the scroll in his minutely shaking hands. 

"What of you?" Tobirama asked suddenly. "What about your brothers?"

"All older than me, save Izuna." He replied. "I didn't hardly know them and they died before I joined the main body of the Uchiha forces."

Tobirama nodded solemnly. "I only know Touka and Itama's names because Hashirama was old enough to remember them."

He shook his head. "Why did you tell me this now? Why not earlier, or not at all?"

Tobirama shrugged noncommittally. "You wanted to know. It is simply history now. The village ensures that never again will children be brought into war. I could see your questions in your eyes since you saw us three weeks ago in that meadow."

He stiffened and Tobirama raised an eyebrow. 

"What? Did you forget I'm a Sensor?"

Indeed, he had. 

"I knew you were there. Likely Hashirama did to, knowing her sense for you." Tobirama continued. "But it doesn't matter now."

"Do you meet her there for this ritual of your own volition?"

The Senju nodded. "Hashirama is the great tree of the Senju clan, her roots deep and her tallest branches grazing the heavens. It . . . It cleanses my soul to be with her, like that. To be simply a younger brother taking comfort in the strength and guidance of his older sister's unconditional love. I make a point of never leaving that love open to manipulation, so I conceal it. That doesn't mean I don't feel it just as deeply. So we make the time to be brother and sister, carefree in the sun with no barriers. And I tell her then, demonstrate to her the way she does to me all the time that I love her too. She deserves to know, after all she's done . . . "

The conversation trailed off then and the two finished out their work in silence. 

* * *

He stayed away from the training grounds meadow from then on. He had no intention of getting in the middle of something so vitally important. 

He took the time to think about Izuna, how very different the natures of their relationships truly were. Izuna and he had never shared the same kinds of issues that Hashirama and Tobirama had overcome together. Izuna had been his best friend and little brother, but aside from training and daydreaming, they did nothing together. They were busy with work or chores or fighting. They loved each other, he knows, and he would still gladly give up his own life if it would bring Izuna back, but they were not like the Senju. He wondered if it was possible for them to have been. If there was something else they could have done together to strengthen that bond. Unlikely, since both their mother and father were alive at the time, but it still nagged at him. 

Gradually, his thoughts shifted. 

He adored Hashirama with every inch of his being, he knew. It had taken quite some time to come to terms with it, but it was the truth. He wondered then if he was doing as poor as job of showing his feelings for her that he had done with Izuna. Did she know the extent of what he would do for her? The way he felt about her being the spiky shield of his persona and war-hardened emotional gauntlet? Did she know what kind of good she inspired in him, how she helped him fight back the darkness that seeped into his heart like an ink stain? Did she even comprehend how standing int he shade of her great tree had allowed him to nurse his broken heart and mend after the loss of Izuna? Would he ever be able to show her that she quelled his urges to destroy, to curb the malicious nature within him?

But there was no time to find out, no non-embarrassing way to try and ask her. Occasionally, he would wander past the meadow in the dusk, glancing at the place the Senju siblings would have napped that afternoon, rubbing at his chest to ease the pain as he walked away. 

* * *

"I was unaware I became your personal messenger, Hokage-sama." He griped as he walked up onto the roof of the Hokage's mansion. 

High noon was upon them. She had been tired, back from a warzone in the middle of the night and at her desk before sunrise this morning. Still, he was surprised to find her, robes spread out on the hard concrete roof, napping daintily in the sunlight of a warm summer day.

Immediately, he lowered his voice and quieted his steps, walking over to her. She was on her side this time, hair still splayed out above her. He laid the scrolls down a few feet away, laying his own thick robe atop them to stop them from rolling away. He sat down next to her then froze up, considering his next move. 

Many ninja passed over this roof and the rumour mill was vicious where she was concerned. Any little public misconduct was spread like wildfire and this next idea of his would cause more than a little scandal. However, her being asleep on the roof was already plenty of gossip material. 

_You never show her. You expect her to know when there is no way for her to._

He debated with himself for a good ten minutes, simply watching the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest. Ultimately, he decided that gossip was not worth more than she was. 

He laid down next to her, adjusting his other skirts to be even and out of the way before gingerly pulling her against him, settling his cheek against her shoulder. She hummed in her rest, adjusting to cuddle into him more firmly. 

The warmth of the sun was wonderful. The village below was quietly milling about, the birds above chirping merrily. Her breathing returned to normal, her hand splayed over him laxly. It was like a reminder that life was good, and this peace at Hashirama's side would always be something worth fighting for . . . 

* * *

He woke up on his back, the sun to one side of his face, his left arm numb and Tobirama crouched over his head with an eyebrow raised judgementally. 

"Perhaps a less conspicuous location next time, yes?" He said, reaching over the Uchiha to shake Hashirama awake. She roused quickly to his touch, shaking her head a little to clear the sleepy fog. 

"Tobi? What . . . What time is it?"

"Almost three. Your next meeting is in an hour and you've missed most of your paperwork today."

She sighed heavily but Tobirama poked her cheek childishly. 

"I've done most of it. You have to sign off, then change and brush your hair."

She pawed at her one eye sleepily. "You're the best, Tobirama."

"I'm aware." He replied flatly. "Now get up. They won't take kindly if I'm in this briefing instead of you again."

She nodded. "I got it, don't worry."

Tobirama stood, armour glinting in the sunlight. "But seriously, if you feel the need to sleep, go the meadow. Both of you. I'm going to be derailing these new rumours for weeks."

"Okay, okay." She replied. The younger man nodded and walked off. 

Hashirama stood, dusting herself down and nudging him - still petrified - off her robes. She pulled them back on, offering him a sweet little smile. 

"We'll have to do this again. You make a really good, really warm pillow." She said, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair before gliding away like the enigma she was. 

Madara's heart felt like it was going to jump right out of his chest once again and he still didn't know what to do about it.

 

 

 

 


End file.
